Shopping, dropping, not again soon-ing

Yesterday was all about wedding shopping. For M. And it was not fun for either of us, but since G and K’s wedding is now less than 2 weeks away, it had to be done.

As in most things, M and I have wildly different tastes. But in this case as well, we had wildly different tolerances for how much we are willing to spend on clothing and shoes for him for this eventful occasion. In suits, everything I liked was at least $600 on sale, which M thought was precisely 3 times more than he wanted to spend. Everything within M’s preferred price range looked and felt exactly awful, so he grudgingly agreed this was not the cheap-out hill he wanted to die on, especially when it’s so close to the wedding and I am starting to crack under the pressure of his procrastination. I suppose it doesn’t help that I was seeking something specific and limiting our choices within the more cost-effective, rarely worn suit styling realm. But I want what I want – medium to dark gray, no pinstripes, no patterns in the weave of the fabric. Had I been willing to wander from my own criteria, there were several suits in M’s budget range that could have worked. But I didn’t like them for this occasion, so I voted with our wallet. The occasions of “I work hard, I work long hours, I deserve …” rarely occur to me. However, this was the unusual event that I was unwilling to compromise (much) and we were going to drop the cash necessary to make it happen.

At our third stop, the salesman tried a coat on M for size, which finally hammered home for him what I was talking about in fabric. It made him look about 110 years old, like Gollum in the Lord of the Rings. It was also a short, and while I could not put my finger on it at the time, I did not like the fit at all. The guy pulled out a regular in the same suit; better fit, still disliked the fabric. When I explained to salesman in more detail what I was seeking, he pulled out a medium gray that was actually very nice, a touch lighter in color than what mind said I wanted but really nice fabric. Once M tried the jacket on – for once it was a good fit, no further alternations needed – he finally saw what I was talking about with the fabric and drape and such. Third store, second suggestion, done.

The pants – OMG they were huge! But the tailor did his magic chalk marking and they should be perfectly tailored by next Saturday.

Shirt is white, tie is a solid teal that is a pretty close match to the darker teal of the bridesmaid dresses. M was of the opinion that Kayla should weigh in on all this stuff, and while K had no strong opinions on the suit itself while we were shopping – although she did agree some of them did not photograph that well – we had a lengthy text discussion over the various teal-shaded tie choices while M was with the tailor and then trying on the shirt before we decided on the solid. Just to be fair I did show the ties I was considering and he immediately went with the solid, a stripe being a very distant second. So that was good as well. M and I should look appropriately matchy-matchy prom-y in the wedding photos.

K, from the stylist’s chair test driving wedding hair, had a blast shopping with us by text. M and I were certainly not having that much fun in the moments. Now that it’s done, I am both relieved and happy with the choices, but at the time, not fun at all.

From there we stopped for a quick lunch – hence yesterday’s post – and then at home for dress socks to tackle shoes.

Men’s dress shoes are nothing like shopping for women’s shoes. That’s likely why in the big giant shoe warehouses men’s shoes get 2 aisles and women’s get 20. And I apparently have not spent much time actually shopping in a mall recently; I am now feeling the weight of every single one of my years and the accumulated judgment about clothes and fashion. Either that or I was exhausted from the ordeal of shopping with M for M. Shopping with M for me is far more controllable; I can just come back later and try on or purchase what I think I want without him. Shoes especially – multiple stores, multiple pairs of shoes, finally found something that works. And I knew this would be difficult; M lives in running shoes with jaunts into flip flops and has many pairs of both. Dress shoes? Like a foreign country. Multiple stores, multiple pairs of dress shoes, and finally something wearable and if not exactly agreeable at least not offensive to his eye. By that point I did not care what they costed; I just wanted the nightmare shopping to end. Fortunately they too were on a sale – $59.95 and we are done. Except for dress socks; the tan ones M was using yesterday are not going to work.

So after what seems like an enough shopping for one lifetime, the last pressing issue for G & K’s wedding is done. Thankfully.

In other weekend news, I was actually glad to be up and moving around a lot yesterday. One of my yoga postures went awry when I lost my focus and fell out wrong. No lasting damage – just a muscle cramp that sort of slowly worked its way out of my leg through a day of mall walking and standing around or fetching shoes for M while he tried on every single available pair of something the potentially could work. It gave us both something else to talk about other than the misery of buying men’s dress-up clothes.

Today leg is pretty much fine, although I was listening to it during pilates class. Leg was whining to take it easy, that it hurts, and mind was saying “shut the f**k up and deal, you lazy limb.” I took a different class at the other studio location, and it was okay. I definitely prefer the earlier (7:30 versus 9:30) class time. I’m not sure how much longer I will continue with the pilates; my interest in waning now that Sunday’s 7:30 a.m. class seems to have been overtaken by the instructor I like the least. I don’t know – maybe everyone else likes booming, enthusiastic boot camp instructors at 7:30 on a Sunday. I could be in the minority. After the wedding, after our vacation, I may switch up my away-from-they gym day and try something else new. I shall become an exercise adventurer and try something else next.

And despite the zoom-zoom-zoom pacing and having lost 2 different items of significance and no idea where during the course of it, the weekend has been very pleasant. But my absent-mindedness is starting to mildly freak me out. Yesterday it was a credit card. I stopped to get gas on my way to the gym and discovered later in the day that it was missing from my wallet. No problem – probably in my gym bag. Came home and emptied it out, nope, not in my gym bag. Then I thought surely the jacket I was wearing, but nope, not in that pocket either. M and I both looked in my car without any luck there either. I have no idea where I dropped it, but I have reported it as lost and it has been cancelled.

Today it is my sunglasses. I had just yesterday been telling M that I felt like it was time for an eye exam and possibly updating my prescription; today, I have lost my sunglasses somewhere between 2 stores. We stopped to pick up M’s wedding band at Shane Company, then walked across the parking lot to a small, jammed to the rafters lighting store showroom. We checked both places, although honestly if I set them down somewhere in the lighting store they are lost forever. That place was a scrambled mess! We saw a couple of really cool (and expensive) fixtures as potential replacements for our dining room light, but it was beyond inaccessible for a handicapped person. The aisles were so narrow it was barely roomy enough for M and I to get through them single file, and we are not extraordinarily big or wide-bodied people.

Anyway, I’m frustrated with myself for being so forgetful and not paying closer attention to what I am doing. Between the wedding and general workload, I have been pretty busy lately. At least I have a tracker and app for my keys, since I lose them in the house all the time.

8/28/2016 – Cube tracker for my frequently misplaced keys.

So, a new month starts in a few days, and I had very pleasant surprises this morning from both the scale and the tape measure, both of which I still detest. While I don’t feel particularly tinier, they say yes, it is so. I find not caring that much means not getting overly excited when it says “Janelle, you’re smaller.” I get a much stronger happy zing when my meter says my blood sugar is staying well within the normal range and my carb counting says I’m within 10% either way of my daily budget. This eating thing, despite doing it my whole life, is so much harder than dragging my butt out of bed for the gym every morning.

I am off to finish writing down my weekly meal plan and putting lunch together for tomorrow. Have a great week everyone!